Walt Whitman has been resl quiet since this dropped
I think we had very similar thoughts this Christmas morning… before reading I even thought to myself. “This one? You sure you don’t want to wait a few days with it?”
This is one of those BLs that feels like, every new chapter brings something, that makes me unsure why I’m still here.
damnnn ok shakespeare pop off (u real asf for that tho)
Girl forget about Charles Dickens, yours is the true adventure book
There a yuri with vomit and it was epicccccc
*OHGURL gets off her bed and places her phone on the nightstand. She slips on her slippers and ignores her jacket as she makes her way to the balcony. OHGURL slides the door open and appreciates the crisp winter air that welcomes her. She releases a deep breath, impressed by the size of condensation it makes. As she gazes at the fog that blankets the empty streets, she ponders the moments leading up to her current distraught.
She recalls, at the beginning of her BL stories, the sweetness of it all. The comedy inside of, "Honto Yajuu", the pure love of "Heesu in Class One", the slice of life and character growth of, "Love Tractor" and the sweet love of, "Sign" and wonder how did she get here.
Puke, vomit, releasing of stomach enzymes, whatever you may call it, that's what she reads now. Chunks of ham or fish lay in the toilet as she watched the main character get tongued down by a psychopath with boundary issues. Yellow vomit rest on the chin of the main character as his false lover, the bottom feeder, licks his mouth clear with the excuse of "I ate the same things you did".
OHGURL laughs to herself, feeling her once burning ears cool off, and shakes her head. Maybe she should just stick with GL... she's never had to read puke there. She exhales one more time, the imagine of her as a dragon breathing smoke vaguely crosses her mind (perhaps as a way for the brain to try to distract itself from what it just tead), and heads back into her home.
"What a weird way to start Christmas," she says to no one. She crawls back into her bed, squeeze her eyes shut, and prays that she can dream of milk and cookies not vomit and tonguing.*